


Reforms And Riots

by Cerdic519



Series: Austentatious [13]
Category: AUSTEN Jane - Works, Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen, Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Alternate Universe - Industrial Revolution, Alternate Universe - Jane Austen Fusion, Crobby - Freeform, Cuddling & Snuggling, Destiel - Freeform, Devonshire, Electoral Reform, England (Country), F/M, London, M/M, Minor Character Death, Omega Castiel, Period Typical Attitudes, Sense and Sensibility - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2018-12-30 19:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12115953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: A furtherSense and SensibilityDestiel sequel (for the love of Jane, someone stop me!). It is 1830. The cities of Liverpool and Manchester are connected by a locomotive-hauled passenger railway, London watches anxiously as the government wrestles with some weird concept called 'democracy', and in rural Devonshire, Castiel and Dean now have ten children, a new (yet old) house, and most of their friends and family. But even some quiet backwater like the Culm Valley will not be unaffected by the changes coming to England - and there are problems closer to home as well.





	1. Pineapple Head

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theklynnsmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theklynnsmith/gifts), [Mjs1wv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mjs1wv/gifts), [Willbakefordean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willbakefordean/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Monseigneur Castiel Ferrers has a happy life just now. He has his alpha, he has a large family, and he has been able to use his wealth wisely to make him loved throughout the Culm Valley and beyond. All is calm as summer gets underway – but a misdirected letter threatens to put an end to his quiet life.

If Dean had one regret about his current lifestyle, it was that his mother had not lived to see this, a Ferrers back at Barton Park, lord of all he surveyed.

A pointed cough from a certain mind-reading omega across the room brought him brutally back to reality. Yes, legally Castiel was Dean's property, but the last time some idiot had made a joke about that in his presence during a visit to the town and a certain alpha had (in a moment of temporary insanity) actually been caught smiling at it – it had been a brief and totally reflex reaction - Castiel had been Severely Displeased. Dean had spent the whole journey home trying to placate the omega, but to no avail.

It had been three days before he had been able to put clothes on and endure the chafing. Strenuous activities such as walking and sitting down had been damnably painful for a whole week afterwards. And a certain dark-haired someone's smug smirk had Not Helped!

Dean tried to stop his heart beating faster as he saw that smile on his mate's face that said that it might be the middle of the day, but that once Castiel had finished his chapter, then the two of them would adjourn to their room, where the family and servants had learnt (sometimes through bitter experience) not to disturb them. That omega knew full well what he did to his alpha, and that Dean was powerless to resist him.

Dean shifted his position slightly and let out what was a high-pitched cough, not a whine. Alphas did not whine. Not ever.

Fortunately his sex maniac of an omega continued with his book for now, so he managed to still his breathing and stared out down the drive, seeing one of the servants returning from the town with a newspaper, and thought again of his mother. She had died six years ago, shortly after the fire, and Castiel had insisted on their immediately driving to Exeter to to see his step-father in order to assure him that his new family would stand by him. Franklyn Devereux had wanted to continue living in his and Mary's old house, but he had accepted a pension from Castiel that had ensured that his last four years were spent in comfort, he himself having died last year.

The sad thing was that his mother had died a year too soon. The Great Fire of Darkside had left only the west wing of that building standing, and even that would have to be repaired in places. Castiel and Dean had therefore gratefully accepted Sir Robert's invitation to move in with him and Crowley, which should have worked out well enough.

Unfortunately, barely a month after their arrival the elderly nobleman suffered a blow, when his son and heir Lord Robert announced that he was marrying a Catholic lady and moving to the United States of America – and, incidentally, renouncing his title. Sir Robert's younger son and new heir Lord Stephen had never liked the countryside, preferring the bustle and noise of his house in London, and when it became clear that he intended to sell the estate as soon as his parents had passed, Castiel had stepped in and offered to buy his husband's one-time home.

Perhaps understandably Dean had been shocked by this development, but his omega had soon 'persuaded' (gentle reader, _do_ use your imagination!) him that it was for the best. Last December Laird Crowley had sickened and had passed after a short illness on New Year's Eve, his heartbroken husband following him into the next world just two weeks later. The new Sir Stephen had then sold the entire estate to Castiel as promised, and once more a Ferrers ruled over the town that bore his name. 

And Dean ruled beside him.

+~+~+

It was a few days later. Dean watched the mist slowly lifting on the drive and sighed. Castiel would probably want to go out for a walk now, and although Dean did not share his mate's love for the great outdoors, he knew that he would be going with him. Besides, there was always the possibility that they might find a nice, remote barn, and.....

There was a knock at the door.

“Enter!” Castiel called out.

Beddowes, their butler, duly did. 

“Beg pardon, sirs, but the newspaper is here.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. The arrival of the daily newspaper did not usually require it to be announced.

“Has something of import occurred?” he inquired.

“Indeed, sirs”, the butler said in his sonorous tone. “His Majesty the King has passed into the Next World.”

Dean bit back a sarcastic comment as to which world that might be. George the Fourth had been a pretty poor king, and about the only good thing that could be said about the son of the king who had lost America was that at least the former Prince Regent had steered clear of politics – although that had been largely because he had been terrified of the prime minister, the Duke of Wellington.

“So farewell the Prince of Whales with an 'h', and hello Pineapple Head”, Castiel said after Beddowes had left. “I rather think that the new reign may be an interesting one.”

Dean wondered what made his mate think such a thing, before the omega put his book down and stared at the alpha in such a way that pretty much put all coherent thought out of the latter's mind. 

Apparently they were not going out after all.

+~+~+

Following the birth of Phoenix whilst Darkside had burnt around them, Castiel had known that the remaining third of that house that was inhabitable would not be sufficient for their large family. Indeed, having so many children would surely have excused the omega from knowing everything about what they were up to. However, Castiel was married to Dean, so he had learnt to be keenly observant - which meant that he knew something was up with their eldest son.

Dean was immensely proud of Scaden, who at twenty years of age was everything that an alpha could have wished for in an alpha son and heir. He had inherited his height and looks from his father and only a gentle reserve from his papa, and did everything that was asked of him without question. And yet Castiel was worried. Not for his son, whom he would love regardless, but for what he could see that the future might hold. 

Scaden had ridden up the valley to see his cousins at Delaford. Or so he had said, but Castiel had grown suspicious of late, and had made certain discreet inquiries which had told him otherwise. When his son returned that afternoon he called him into the lounge; Dean had been allowed to go to the Road House for pie, so would not be back for at least another hour.

“Scaden”, Castiel smiled, “how is everyone up at Delaford?”

Just like his father, the omega thought to himself; Scaden Ferrers had that awkward habit of looking to the side before he told a lie. 

“Oh, all very well”, he said airily. 

“One of the servants mentioned that they happened to see you in town”, Castiel said innocently. “That is not on the way there.”

Scaden turned bright red. Even Dean lied better than that.

“I, um, fancied a longer walk”, he hedged.

Castiel just stared at him until he broke.

“Jesse”, he muttered, staring fixedly at the carpet.

“Oh!”

Castiel could see the reason for his son's hesitation. Jesse Campbell was the nephew and ward of the odious Alastair Campbell, now member of parliament for Norton and Stoke just across the border in Somersetshire. Alastair had been involved in the events surrounding the fire some six years back, and had almost certainly only been elected as the Tory member for his seat because the Whig alternative had been even worse, the lecherous Sir Anthony Blair-Hele. That Scaden was dating Alistair's nephew and potential heir – well, 'awkward' would be an understatement.

“You are foreseeing that your father may react badly”, he said.

“We are not sure which of them will react worse, him or Jesse's uncle”, Scaden sighed. He seemed set to say something else, but seemingly thought the better of it.

“Do not even go there”, Castiel warned him. “Getting the boy pregnant, even if he is eighteen, would not make either of them accept it as a _fait accompli_. They might even try to take the child away from him, and you know how devastating that would be to an omega, let alone to an un-mated one.”

“I love him, papa”, Scaden sighed unhappily.

“I can see that”, Castiel said. “Just be a little more careful in future. Servants talk, you know, and sooner or later things like this come out, whether you want them to or not.”

He accepted his son's dutiful kiss and let him go. He had some heavy thinking to do.

+~+~+

It was a warm July day and Castiel was driving over to the old Darkside estate. After the fire some six years back, Castiel and Dean had given some thought as to what to do with the house. Their initial decision had been to live elsewhere in the area – their stay at Barton Park was then thought to be only temporary – and manage the bulk of the estate, restoring the largely undamaged west wing and then renting it out as a country house. Fortunately the ideal tenant was to hand, and Castiel's friend Inias, his husband Fitzalan and their children had moved in once the repairs were completed, renaming the place Bessborough House after the alpha's family's home village in the North. 

Castiel had considered asking his brother Samandriel to take the place first, but the death of their half-brother Lord Raphael soon after the passing of the latter's son Uriel meant that Norland Park had also become Castiel's property. It would of course have been totally unbecoming of him to have descended upon the place and forced Lady Lilith out to live in some unsuitable outlying building (like Norland Lodge, say) as she had done to him and his family barely a decade earlier, and Castiel was above any such moves. 

He had let Samandriel and his husband do it instead.

Inias greeted him with a letter.

“This came for you”, he said. “Addressed to Darkside, so it was delivered here. Unfortunately there was no name on it, so I opened it.”

“What is it about?” Castiel asked.

“It is from a lady called Mrs. Kent, in London.”

Castiel shook his head. The name was unknown to him.

“She writes about a tenant of hers, a young soldier called Benjamin Smith, Inias said. “He is in a very bad way, financially speaking. She says that he is too proud to ask for help himself. She found one day that he was keeping articles about Dean.”

“His name is also unknown to me”, Castiel said, a little warily. Since inheriting Darkside he had often times been beset with appeals for help for this person or that cause, and he had learnt to inquire carefully into things before opening his wallet. Inias hesitated.

“She also states that the man's mother, who abandoned him to a relative when she emigrated to the United States some years back, was one Miss Ruby Steele.”

Castiel swallowed hard. Did that mean that this soldier in need – was he his husband's son?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Norton & Stoke was a (fictitious) constituency, but typical of many such at the time. Norton Fitzwarren (real) had once been the principal town in south-west Somerset, but by this time had long been supplanted by nearby Taunton. However, many such 'shrunken towns' kept their parliamentary representation, whilst their larger replacements had none.


	2. All Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2\. Dean owns up to his not-son, and as so often Castiel surprises him with his reaction. The electorate of Three Bartons go to the polls – all seventy of them – and someone asks for the hand of Dean's elder daughter in marriage. Fortunately the alpha is not so whipped that he has to get his mate's permission first, and... look, that sniggering is quite uncalled for, thank you very much!

How, Castiel wondered, did one go about broaching such a subject with one's husband? 'Hello, beloved, did you have a good day today, oh and by the way, you forgot to tell me about a potential son you may have had with the woman to whom you were once engaged?' Yes, that would be sure to go well!

The only good part of the whole sorry affair was that the young man's mother – his brother-in-law's sister, though Castiel preferred not to think of her like that – was several thousand miles away. Castiel had not been sorry to see them go; their continued presence in the area had been a constant reminder to his poor husband of Samuel Ferrers' base ingratitude for all that his elder brother had done for him, although he was glad that Dean had been reconciled with his brother before he had emigrated. 

(Castiel may or may not have been implicit in the arrival of several brochures offering cheap crossings to the Americas at his relations' house just prior to that time. But it could never be proven, so that was all right). 

In the end, the omega opted for the direct approach. But not before he had spent a few days doing some very careful research, mostly courtesy of the all-seeing, all-knowing Rowena Crossdale.

+~+~+

“I have received a communication”, he said at breakfast one morning. “From someone representing a Mr. Benjamin Smith, late of His Majesty's armed forces.”

Dean was confused for only a second before he suddenly looked most uncomfortable. Castiel looked expectantly at him.

“I would surmise”, the omega said carefully, “that this boy – well, young man as he is past twenty now – is the result of a relationship between your one-time betrothed and a soldier, and that that relationship was conducted whilst she was engaged to you.”

Dean nodded, staring fixedly at the table.

“The boy is not mine”, he said flatly. “I know that his father's family – the Braedens – were kept in ignorance by Ruby, and I do not doubt she made sure that the boy considered me the devil incarnate. They are all gone now.”

“From his age, he can only have been five or six years of age when she left for the United States”, Castiel mused. “Leaving aside the obvious comment about her complete and totally unsurprising lack of maternal instinct, what happened to him for the past decade or so?”

“He was raised by my friend Philoctetes, but he reached eighteen at the same time as the fellow married”, Dean said. “Ben made it clear that he wanted to make it on his own by enlisting, and the last that Phil heard was that he had gone over to partake in the war against the Ashanti in Africa.”

“I am surprised, knowing your friend, that he did not make more effort to keep in touch with him”, Castiel said reprovingly.

“His new wife disliked the boy intently”, Dean said defensively. 

“Hmm”, Castiel said thoughtfully. “So you are going to invite him down here?”

Dean looked at his mate in surprise.

“You would be accepting of that?” he said uncertainly.

In truth Castiel felt a little uneasy about having any relation of that demonspawn the former Miss Ruby Steele anywhere nearby. But even if this was not Dean's blood, it was clear that he felt some obligation towards the young man.

“Of course”, he smiled.

+~+~+

Some four days later, Dean was less happy. The cause was an article in the newspaper, which had featured his husband. Of course the English aristocracy were famed for being occasionally a tad eccentric (ahem!), but this?

“It really is just plain irritating!” the alpha grumbled. “I mean, that a journalist just happened to be in that restaurant at that time. Now everyone will think that you support Mr. Leamington.

“We hardly had dinner together”, Castiel said reasonably. “He asked how I was, I asked how the election was going, we chatted for not more than five minutes and then parted.”

Dean let out a defensive growl. He new that Mr. Charles Leamington was a happily married man with three children, but no-one talked with his omega without his knowing about it. Reading about it in the newspaper – well, that was downright unacceptable.

“That rat Alastair will be livid”, he said crossly. Like so many, Alistair Campbell was standing in more than one constituency, as he was again facing a challenge in his own Norton and Stoke. And his support had been weakened because the previous year, the Tory government had finally granted Catholic Emancipation, and as a result a faction of the party had split off as the Ultra-Tories and was fielding candidates in many constituencies, including both the local seats. The local papers still rated Alistair as the favourite to win in Norton, but it would be close, especially as everyone now knew that Lord Castiel Ferrers was pretty much supportive of....

Far too belatedly, the penny dropped. Dean stared at his husband.

“You set the whole thing up!” he said accusingly. “Without even asking me?”

Too late did he realize his mistake. Castiel's eyes narrowed, and before the alpha could beg for... could clarify matters, he rose to his feet.

“I think that it is time for bed”, he growled.

“But Cas, it's only just past eleven and.....”

“Now, Dean!”

Dean gulped in terror.

+~+~+

Four days later, Dean was still limping. And being very careful when he sat down, although there was no cause for Jo Harvelle to snigger like that. And he was sure he caught the waitress being paid by her mother Ellen behind the counter, their both looking at Dean. Had they been betting on him again? Honestly, it was as if the whole town knew just how much he was owned by his omega (he would have complained, but he knew that if word ever got back to Barton Park, his life thereafter would be 'interesting', and quite probably 'short'). 

“Mr. Campbell was in here earlier, touting for votes”, Jo said disapprovingly as she brought his food over. “Is Castiel letting you have pie today?”

“Yes”, Dean growled. “He said I could have two slices as I had been so good of late.”

She just looked at him. Damnation, he could not catch a break!

“All right, he allowed me one”, Dean grumbled. It was no use pretending that he had any authority in his marriage, even if legally all Castiel's money was his. Everyone knew who wore the trousers in the Ferrers household.

The waitress' smirk was still annoying, though.

“Why was that rat in here anyway?” Dean asked. “It is not as if everyone has the right to vote.”

“Fred Carver and his wife were in for a meal, and he wanted their support”, she said. “If I had been cruel I would have told him that Mr. Leamington had been in a quarter of an hour earlier and been promised the same vote.”

Dean grinned. At that moment the door bell rang and a tall young alpha entered the restaurant. It was Ralston Turner, Ross Turner's son and grandson to the eternally grumpy Rufus. He looked around nervously before smiling tentatively at the older alpha. Dean beckoned him over.

“Hullo, sir”, Ralston said, looking exceedingly uncomfortable. “Um, I wished to ask you something.”

Dean's eyes narrowed, and he knew from the other alpha's widened eyes that he detected the sharp shift in his scent as well. Ralston was dating Dean's elder daughter Mariel, who had turned eighteen last December. The young lad was pleasant enough, but Dean was naturally protective when it came to his family.

“Be seated”, Dean ordered. “Is this about Mary?”

The young alpha looked set to bolt at any minute, but nodded.

“I wished to ask for her hand in marriage”, he said, staring hard at the tablecloth as Jo Harvelle came up.

“You would do better asking the head of the household”, she teased, placing Dean's pie in front of him. 

“I was hoping Mr. Dean would ask Mr. Castiel for me”, the young alpha said. “I am too afraid to ask him myself.”

Dean scowled and bit viciously into his pie. He could not even pretend to have any authority in his own household, damnation! Oh well, at least his pie loved him.

+~+~+

Castiel was of course too good an omega to say anything about young Ralston Turner's deferring to him, but Dean definitely caught a knowing smile when he told him the news. The omega assured him that whatever Dean decided was fine by him, but when the alpha suggested that maybe the couple should wait until his daughter was older – say about thirty-five – Castiel just gave him a Look, followed by a pointed glance in the direction of the bedroom.

Sigh. No authority whatsoever. And they needed new windows as well; this room was cold enough to make Dean shiver.

+~+~+

The election in Three Bartons was held at the end of August. It was a strange quirk of British elections that the whole thing took place over more than a month, which often meant that those seats where voting took place later often knew the overall result beforehand, or at least the way in which things were heading. But not this time; it was clearly going to be a matter of just a few seats between the Duke of Wellington staying in power or a possible Whig-Ultra Tory coalition replacing him.

As usual, voting took place at Barton Park, with Castiel and Dean laying on food for the voters and their families. And as before the two of them maintained a watch at the voting table, preventing any of the three candidates from interfering with the voting process. Once all seventy names had been crossed off, Dean counted the votes, and double-checked them before informing the three candidates. As it was close between two of them he then recounted them, showing each ballot paper to each candidate. There were no changes, so he handed the paper to the Returning Officer who read out the result:  
“I, the Returning Officer for the constituency of Three Bartons, hereby give notice that the total number of votes cast in today's election was as follows:  
Alastair Campbell, Tory, thirty votes  
Paul Clayton, Ultra-Tory, eight votes  
Charles Leamington, Whig, thirty-two votes.  
I therefore declare that Mr. Charles Leamington is duly elected to serve as the member for said constituency.”

+~+~+

“Damn close!” Dean sighed as he and Castiel lay together a few evenings later. “If just one more person had changed their vote it would have been a tie.”

“Unfortunately Alistair will be back in parliament anyway, as he has won his old constituency by a massive twenty-one votes”, Castiel said. “I am glad we do not have him down here, however.”

He said nothing more, but Dean was so attuned to his omega that he noticed the subtle change in his scent.

“What are you thinking?” he asked. 

“The vote in the constituency is given to men who own a forty-shilling freehold”, Castiel said. “Correct?”

“Yes”, Dean said warily.

“I was thinking of building some larger houses on the edge of the town”, Castiel grinned. “Say, the sort that those living in them would be entitled to vote.”

“That”, Dean said, “would be devious.”

He suddenly realized where his mate's hand was heading, and froze in terror.

“Then let me show you just how devious I can be, beloved!”

+~+~+

This time it was only three days before Dean could walk without wincing.


	3. Railroaded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3\. New technology proves to be the death of one of its key advocates. When the Duke of Wellington's government collapses, Castiel is approached by supporters of electoral reform who hope that he will openly back their efforts. But the first attempt to make elections fairer ends in failure, and leads to another general election.

“I _told_ you so!” Dean said firmly. “But would anyone listen? Oh no!”

His mate and eldest son shared a collective eye-roll across the table.

“Is this about poor Huskisson?” Castiel asked calmly. “Because from the reports in the newspaper, his death seems to have been very much his own fault. One does not step in front of a heavy object moving at fifteen yards per second and not expect some unpleasant consequences.”

“He was one of the main supporters of these new-fangled railways”, Dean said firmly. “And now he is dead, run over by one of his own creations.”

“I thought that it was Mr. Stephenson who created the _Rocket_?” Scaden said. His father's scowl made him stop right there.

“Huskisson supported these unnatural devices, and look what happened to him”, Dean said. “They will never catch on!”

“I rather think that they will”, Castiel said, “and if they do, then our lives here may be changed forever.”

Both alphas looked at him in alarm.

“Why, papa?” Scaden asked.

“Well”, Castiel said, “there are already reports that the merchants of Bristol are looking to build their own railway all the way to London, because they fear the increased competition from Liverpool and that it may get a line before they do. If the railway system works – and I rather think that it will – then they may extend their own line on to other places, like Exeter.”

“So?” Dean asked.

“The most natural approach to Exeter would be down this valley”, Castiel pointed out. “We would have these 'monsters', as you call them, beloved, chuffing along the valley every single day.”

Dean shuddered at the prospect.

“It would also affect food prices”, Castiel said, “which given how poor this year's harvest looks is important. Which reminds me; some of the men asked if those who have served here for longest and those with larger families might receive extra truck tokens this year.”

The alpha did not even protest that the staff went to his omega before him. 

“What did you decide?” he asked.

“What do you think?” Castiel asked. Dean was surprised.

“It sounds fair”, he said cautiously, “provided the others do not suffer as a result. Would it not be expensive?”

“I sold those new houses – well, the land and the building rights – and made a good profit”, Castiel said. “I have no trouble with investing it in my workers. They deserve it.”

+~+~+

A week later, they had a visitor to Barton Park. A welcome one.

“Alfie!” Castiel beamed. “Hullo, Fitzalan. Please come in, both of you.”

His brother and brother-in-law both entered. Fitzalan Neville's prospects of inheriting his father's title had receded with the births of several nephews in recent years, but before that an uncle had unexpectedly bequeathed him his wealth, enabling him and Samandriel to 'buy' Norland Park from Castiel (he would of course had given it to them anyway, and had accepted considerably less than the estate was worth). 

“How is our dear sister-in-law?” Castiel grinned. “Still enjoying life at the Lodge?”

“We decided to let her decamp to the coast instead”, Samandriel smiled. “She was only spreading misery around the area, even if her having to live there was extremely pleasurable to some.”

“The estate had a property in Selsey”, his husband said. “We both though that that was just about far enough away.”

They all laughed.

“So what brings you down here?” Castiel asked. “Not that I am not happy to see you, of course.”

There was a definite hesitation. His visitors looked uneasily at each other.

“You know that I became the member of parliament for Rotherbury at the last election”, Fitzalan began.

Castiel nodded.

“I am working with Charles, Earl Grey, head of the Whigs”, the young alpha said. “We expect Wellington's government to fall before the end of the year, and the king will have no alternative but to appoint Grey as prime minister.”

“Would that mean another election?” Castiel asked. His brother-in-law shook his head. 

“Not with the one we just had”, he said. “More likely next spring; Wellington and the combined Whig/Ultra-Tory blocks are almost equal in strength, with about a hundred neutrals holding the balance of power. The matter at hand is this; Grey wants to attempt parliamentary reform before the election.”

“So as to give him a better chance, the cynics will say”, Castiel smiled. “I doubt that he will succeed, although it will happen in the end. Hopefully without violence; we have seen enough of that in France lately.”

“The earl was very impressed with your speeches on omega rights”, Samandriel said. “Politically he thinks that extending the franchise to omegas would be very popular. He would appreciate your support in his endeavours.”

Castiel pursed his lips.

“I do not trust politicians”, he said. “Most of them”, he amended, smiling at his brother-in-law. “I should require a letter written by His Grace, stating that he fully supports votes for omegas and will keep to that position. And I would expect him to understand that, should he abandon that position, then that letter would be sent to all the London newspapers.”

“I can see why Alfie says you are so formidable”, Fitzalan smiled. “I will proceed to London, and I am sure that you will soon have your letter.”

“Then the earl will soon have my support”, Castiel said.

+~+~+

Dean sighed as he read the newspaper.

“Well, those words of yours will soon be put to the test”, he said resignedly. “Fireworks last night, and fireworks today. Wellington has been defeated in the Commons and resigned, and the king has sent for Grey.”

“Reluctantly, I would wager”, Castiel said. “Does my speaking out upset you?”

Yes.

“Of course not!” Dean said forcibly.

His mate just looked at him. Dean slowly reddened.

“I hate it when you do that!” he grumbled.

“Do what?” Castiel asked innocently.

“Give me that judgemental look”, Dean said. “As if you know me all too well.”

Castiel looked over to the grandfather clock in the corner.

“It is only a little after two of the clock”, he said conversationally, “but if you would rather go upstairs and let us 'know' each other in the Biblical sense...”

It was of course totally unbecoming for an omega to feel smug when he saw his alpha suddenly breathing faster. So instead Castiel just toyed idly with a button on his shirt.

His alpha was already out of the room.

+~+~+

Dean frowned as he sorted through his letters at the table.

“Is something wrong?” Castiel asked.

“I thought that I saw that boy Jesse, Alistair's nephew, on our driveway”, Dean said. “I would have hoped that that scoundrel would not stoop so low as to use a mere boy to spy on us.”

“Hardly a boy”, Castiel corrected. “He is Scaden's age, twenty.”

“Clearly they do not feed him enough, then”. Den scowled. “Next time I see him I hope to have my shotgun.”

Castiel scowled at him.

“You will _not_ harm an innocent omega, Dean”, he said firmly. 

“But....”

“I was not aware that we were negotiating?”

Dean did not whine. There may, however, have been a very slight, almost infinitesimally small pout.

“I saw that!”

Damnation!

+~+~+

“I cannot but wonder”, Castiel told his friend Inias, “if our prime minister wishes his reform bill to fail.”

“What makes you say that?” Inias asked. 

“His plan to reduce the number of members of parliament”, Castiel said. “Something necessary, I agree, but geese do not vote for Christmas.”

“Perhaps he should extend the vote to geese, then?” Inias sighed. 

Castiel looked shrewdly at his friend.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

Inias sighed.

“Aidan, our eldest, has gotten a girl down by Exeter 'in the family way'”, he said heavily. “Fitz is furious!”

“I do not wonder”, Castiel said. “The younger generation so often think that they can force the hand of the elder, not yet being bright enough to realize that one day that generation will be they themselves. I presume that the girl's family is not best pleased.”

“A farming family, and they have disowned her”, Inias said glumly. “Alan wanted to bring her to the house, and it all degenerated into a shouting match.”

“Has she no other relatives?” Castiel asked.

“An aunt near Dark Barton”, Inias said. “That was how they chanced to meet. Why do you ask?”

“I know the young”, Castiel smiled, thinking of the conversation that he had had with his own eldest son the day before about keeping his omega boyfriend better concealed. “If one specifically tells them _not_ to do something, it exponentially increases the likelihood that they will do just that. Perhaps you could find the girl work on the estate somewhere, and suggest to your son that once he is of age, you might then let him marry her. If their relationship is serious, they will be prepared to wait.”

“I am not sure that Fitz would agree to such an idea”, Inias said dubiously.

“I am sure you can persuade him”, Castiel smiled.

His friend looked at him in surprise before he got it.

“Ugh! Castiel!”

The older omega smiled.

+~+~+

“Why are you so interested in this new-fangled railway thing?” Dean asked, as Castiel pored over a selection of newspaper articles.

“As I said, I am concerned as to the effect it may have when it eventually reaches here”, the omega said.

“You really think that it will?” his husband asked.

“I am sure of it. And the effects may be even greater than on the Liverpool to Manchester railway which, fundamentally, is there to ship coals to the latter city. Coal prices there have collapsed now that they are no longer dependent on the canal. That effect in particular will be more pronounced here, let alone what it will do to the countryside.”

“Such as?” Dean was confused.

“Consider if you ran a business in somewhere like Tiverton or Honiton, away from where the main line will most probably go”, Castiel said. “That is what I am reading about, businesses in towns around Manchester have moved into the city to take advantage of the railway, and they have pulled the people in with them. The same thing could happen down here, which would be damaging to the estate.”

“You are so clever for.....”

Too late, Dean realized that that sentence was not going to end well for him. Castiel was giving him the Look again.

“You were not going to finish that sentence with 'for an omega', were you, beloved?” Castiel growled.

“No! No! Definitely not!”

“That is good.”

Dean only narrowly suppressed a sigh of relief.

“But you are still going to pay for it later!”

Scratch the relief.

+~+~+

Castiel was deep in preparations for his elder daughter's wedding next week when Dean returned from his ride. The omega knew at once that something was wrong.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Grey has had to abandon his reforms”, Dean said glumly. “I am sorry.”

Castiel sighed. He had feared the worst when, the previous month, the prime minister had won a vote on the reforms by a single vote.

“What happened?” he asked.

“The Tories sank it by voting in a wrecking amendment”, Dean said. “It passed by eight votes. Grey has gone to the king and asked for an immediate dissolution of parliament. There will be an election over the next month or so.”

“Poor fools”, Castiel sighed. “The mood in the country is most definitely for reform now. The Tories will be destroyed.”

Dean came over and wrapped his arms around his mate, and held him close. Castiel sighed happily.


	4. Making Bridges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4\. There is both a wedding and a hotly-contested election. Castiel evades an end to his truck system and speaks out in support of reform, while a second attempt at which battles through parliament. Dean's almost-son brings something rather large to the valley, and an unfortunate encounter in a London restaurant can only lead to trouble.

It was exactly one week after May Day when Castiel and Dean had seen their elder daughter Mariel joined with Ross Turner's son Ralston, and the alpha was still not-sulking that he had not been allowed to growl at or threaten his new son-in-law. Besides, there was also the visitor who, Castiel could see from his position by Barton Park's bay window, was approaching up the drive. The omega's eyes widened in surprise.

“This Benjamin Smith”, he said casually. “You said that he was a beta?”

“Yes”, Dean yawned from his couch where he was semi-dozing after being allowed extra pie for dessert. “Why?”

“Only that he is coming up our drive, and he seems to have acquired some rather unusual 'baggage'”, Castiel said.

Dean groaned and levered himself off the couch, staggering over to the window. He squinted at the approaching figures, then squinted again.

“What the blazes is _that?_ ” he demanded, aghast.

“I rather think”, his mate said dryly, “that we are about to find out.”

+~+~+

“Thank you for inviting me here, sir.”

The ex-soldier was much as Castiel had expected, blond, pale-skinned and very clearly undernourished. What he had not expected was what was currently standing beside – and above – him.

“This is Goliath”, Benjamin explained. “I rescued him out in Africa, and he wanted to come home with me.”

The tall, muscular dark-skinned alpha had to be at least six foot nine inches tall, if not more. He was attired normally enough, although it was clear that his clothes were at least a size too small for him.

“You are both welcome”, Castiel smiled, pointedly not remarking on the fact that his own alpha had sidled in behind him (there may have been a smirk, though). “As our friend and predecessor in this place once so rightly said, family does not end in blood.” He rang a small hand-bell. “I will have Jack show you down to your cottage, and we shall have you to dine with us this evening. Both of you.”

+~+~+

The two of them returned a few hours later. The huge man was visibly tired, though making an effort to conceal the fact.

“Goliath has been awake virtually all the way from London”, Benjamin said. “He fears the stagecoach and all its trappings, and was sure that someone would attack us if he fell asleep. But he still insisted on coming tonight.”

“Tell us about you both”, Dean pressed.

“As you may have read in the papers”, the young man began”, the British have been fighting a war against the Ashanti in West Africa. Part of it is driven by the abolition of the slave trade; we all know that the days of slavery itself are numbered. The fighting stopped five years ago, but negotiations have dragged out and a formal peace was only signed earlier this year.”

“Last year my unit was set to return when we had a small-scale flare-up due to a local warlord who was making trouble. When we defeated him, I found Goliath here among his slaves. He had tried to escape, and they had done something to his vocal chords. He cannot speak, but in our remaining time in Africa he learned some English of our written language, and begged me to bring him to England. He is an alpha, and I think the warlord's wife had taken a fancy to him because....”

He was interrupted when the door opened. Cassiel entered.

“Oh, sorry, father, papa”, he said. “I did not know that you had visitors.”

He bowed to the soldier, and the tall black man immediately interposed himself between his master and the omega. He was nearly two foot taller than the latter, who looked at him inquiringly. Goliath growled warningly at him, and looked more than a little surprised when the omega hissed right back at him. The huge alpha stepped back in astonishment.

“That is all right, son”, Castiel said. “You may go.”

His son spared the tall man a last look, then bowed to his papa and left. Goliath growled unhappily.

“Omegas are extremely rare in Africa”, Benjamin explained, patting his servant on the back. “Indeed, I think I only ever saw two or three in all my years there. Anyway, as I was saying, we returned to England where I found things hard. Typically when your letter came last year I had just got a job working in a shipping company, but as I said when I wrote back, that was only for a short time because it was covering for the owner's mate who was pregnant. So here I am.”

“And welcome you _both_ are”, Castiel said firmly.

+~+~+

It was going to be close, Castiel knew. He and Dean watched carefully as the electors of Three Bartons cast their votes, possibly for the last time ever if reform did finally happen. The Returning Officer carefully marked off the names of those entitled to vote (all of whom were looking greedily at the generous spread that the owners of Barton Park had laid on), and finally his list was full. The ballot box was opened and two estate workers counted the votes out into piles. Then the Returning Officer checked his totals, spoke briefly with both candidates, and went to stand in front of Castiel and Dean.

“Owing to the closeness of the result”, he said, “there will be a recount.”

His words were met with a groan from the assembled populace. Castiel stood up.

“But I do not think that that need delay us”, he said with a smile. “We will recount the votes, which will only take a little while, and ring the gong when we are ready to announce the result.”

There were definite cheers from the assembled throng.

+~+~+

Fifteen minutes later, the result was ready. Castiel noted that only one of the two candidates had remained to hear it.

“I, the Returning Officer for the constituency of Three Bartons, hereby given notice that the total number of votes cast for each candidate in today's election was as follows:  
Mr. Alastair Campbell, Tory, thirty-nine votes.  
Mr. Charles Leamington, Whig, forty votes.  
I hereby declare that the aforementioned Mr. Charles Leamington is duly elected to serve as the member for this constituency.”

+~+~+

“Unfortunately that rat Alastair will still be in parliament”, Dean groused as he and Castiel lay together a few days later. “He won Norton and Stoke again, but with a reduced majority. Although that is another place that might well be abolished.”

“ _If_ Grey can get his reforms through parliament”, Castiel said. “That is a big 'if'. And that means getting it through the House of Lords, which is solidly Tory.”

“Surely they would not dare to vote down something so popular?” Dean queried. “There would be a riot.”

“That”, Castiel, “is what I am afraid of.”

+~+~+

There was to be a meeting of an omega rights group in London next month, and Castiel had determined to attend. The prime minister had launched his second attempt to get reform through the House of Commons, and his Tory opponents were fighting it all the way. Castiel's speech would also enable him and his husband to visit Dean's half-brother, who had just moved into a new house in Mayfair having secured a promotion at the bank at which he worked.

Castiel was reading in the library when he heard his elder omega son returning from his walk. Dean had been upset the month before when Cassiel, who was still only sixteen, had been accosted during one of his walks by an amorous beta. Despite that, Castiel had paid for the beta's hospital treatment, and the lad would be fine once all the casts were off. Possibly even a little wiser, as well.

The omega's eyes narrowed. As well as his son's scent there was also a second one, one that was vaguely familiar.

“Cassiel?” he called.

“I am back, papa”, his son called back. “Um, just going to my room.”

“In here. Now.”

The omega's suspicions were proven more than correct when his son entered. With some difficulty, owing to the fact that he had a massively tall black alpha attacked to his neck, growling his displeasure at his target's movements. Cassiel sat on the couch, and Goliath somehow folded his body around him to maintain contact. Castiel quirked an eyebrow at his son.

“I am sure that the explanation will be worth hearing”, he said dryly.

“I, um, picked him up during my walk”, Cassiel said, blushing fiercely. 

Castiel sniffed tentatively. His sharp omega nose could detect it now that his son was close; a definite shift in his scent to match that of the alpha currently draped around him. Well well.

“Perhaps you had better take Goliath back to his master's cottage”, he said, “and hope that he can detach him. At least for now.”

His son's eyes widened.

“You.... do not mind?” he asked, clearly astonished.

“Why would I?” Castiel asked.

He knew the answer, and to give his son credit he was well brought up enough to have difficulty in expressing it.

“The colour of a man's skin has no bearing on the goodness or not of his heart”, Castiel said. “Although I am sure that some people, in a country area like this, will be moved to say something.” He eyed the alpha's muscular bulk, and added, “but I suspect that it will be very, very quietly.”

His son stood up and bowed, temporarily dislodging the alpha who let out a whine that was almost Dean-esque in its annoyance. They were coupled together again before the door.

+~+~+

London was much as London always was, a mess of a city and even more unpleasant in the August heat. Castiel and his brothers had sold their various houses in the city and purchased Lawrence House, a medium-sized place in a quiet Mayfair backwater that could, if needed, accommodate them all. Gabriel, Samandriel and their families were coming for the coronation next month, but Castiel was not attending because he disliked large crowds. The fact that there was a major show on in Exeter on Coronation Day at which they sold huge pies was neither here nor there, although the lip-quivering gratitude that Dean had expressed at being allowed not to miss it had been.... memorable.

Lawrence House had the added advantage that it was near Adam's new property, so they were able to go round and admire it and his family, his and Christina's eldest son Hadrian having recently reached sixteen years of age.

“So who is running the estate in your absence?” Adam asked. “Surely not Gabriel?”

Dean shuddered at the prospect. Castiel chuckled at his husband's discomfiture.

“Nominally our eldest, Scaden”, he said, “although he has our steward to back him up if necessary. The young man turned twenty last month, and sees this as an excellent chance to prove himself.”

“Or burn the place to the ground”, Dean muttered, dodging out of the way of a swat from his mate. Castiel glared at him.

“Hadrian will be bringing someone home soon”, Adam sighed. “They grow up way too fast. It makes you feel old....er.”

“Good save”, Castiel grinned.

“We are going down to see the new London Bridge later”, Christina said. “Much better than the old one, everyone says.”

“Sometimes progress is indeed for the better”, Castiel said. “Although I think they have yet to improve on pie for a dessert – at least as far as some people are concerned.”

Dean huffed indignantly.

+~+~+

It was a few days later. Castiel and Dean were sat in a nearby restaurant for lunch when there was a commotion at the entranceway. They both looked over and stared in disbelief.

“Alastair?” Dean groaned. “What is _he_ doing here? And with that shrew of a wife of his?”

“They are probably here for the coronation”, Castiel suggested. 

The newcomers looked around the restaurant and Alastair caught sight of them. Castiel was impressed that Dean went for only a quiet oath, before the annoying beta was at their table.

“What do you think you are doing?” Alastair began.

“What are you talking about?” Dean demanded. “We are just having lunch.”

“Do not play the innocent with me, _sirrah!_ ” Alastair snapped. “Just after you left the area, one of my servants told me that they had seen my nephew _kissing_ your eldest son!”

Dean stared at him in shock. Castiel was grateful for that, as it meant that his husband missed his mate's slight blush.

“Are you certain?” Dean said angrily. 

“I confronted the boy, and he admitted it”, Alastair said hotly. “Going round with that bastard son of yo....”

The crack as Dean's fist connected with the beta's jaw resounded around the restaurant, and Naomi shrieked. Thinking quickly, Castiel whined in alarm and drew closer to his husband. Sure enough, Dean immediately went into protective mode, sweeping from the place as quickly as he could, his omega nuzzling as close to him as possible. 

And silently dreading what was sure to happen next.

+~+~+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This London Bridge was the one sold in 1968 to Lake Havasu City in Nevada and erected across the Bridgewater Channel there, where it is just like England – except that it is way, way too hot! And Ben was right about the days of slavery being numbered; it was abolished two years later (1833), although some colonies were allowed a few years to transition to a non-slave economy.


	5. Secrets And Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5\. Dean returns home and demands answers,but not before Fate smiles on Castiel and shows him an unexpected solution to their problems. A new king is crowned, the second attempt at reform fails and the people react angrily. But the reformists rally and a third drive for change begins, while Cassiel Ferrers gets impatient with Goliath, and Cassiel's sister ensures that their parents are made something starting with 'g' and rhyming with 'hand-parents'.

Secrets And Lies

It is said that sometimes in life, an answer to a question can come out of the blue. That was certainly true when Castiel attended his meeting with the omega rights group. He was pleased to see that all the important London newspapers were represented there, and he stressed the importance of the omega right to vote. The prime minister's second reform attempt had survived its passage through the House of Commons, but now the Lords were threatening to delay or even scupper it.

Castiel had not known that Mr. Constantine Fletcher, the omega who was hosting this event, was a distant cousin to Alastair, until a walk around the house brought him up in front of a large family portrait, and he recognized his husband's enemy as one of the figures in it.

“Those are my cousins the Campbells”, the house owner said approaching him, “some of whom live not far from you, I believe?”

Castiel bit back a comment.

“We know Alastair, the middle son”, he said. “He lives just across the border from us.”

“The others are Walter, his elder brother, and Cedric, the younger”, his host said. “Both married at the time, and both now gone, more is the pity.”

Castiel stared hard at the picture. An idea was beginning to form in his head.

“Is this picture accurate”, he asked. “We all know how some portrait painters are, especially considering who pays them.”

“Most definitely”, the other omega assured him. “Their father Azazel, who you can see glowering at the back, was like Cromwell; he wanted it 'warts and all'. Why do you ask?”

Castiel stared at the figure of Cedric Campbell, a handsome beta whose pretty wife stared up at him adoringly. Then across to his elder brother Walter, whose eyes were almost the same shade as Dean's.

“Because if that picture is telling the truth, then someone has lied very badly.”

+~+~+

Castiel had considered returning via the Exeter road and visiting Stonehenge, which he had always enjoyed, but his recent discovery meant that he chose instead to go via Bristol, where he could meet Mrs. Crossdale and hopefully take advantage of her formidable skills. The hospital in that city, reopened thanks to his money, was just outside the eastern suburbs, and Castiel was more than a little perturbed to see two armed men at the door. 

Rowena welcomed them into her study.

“I take it that you have not heard?” she asked.

“Heard what?” Castiel asked. “We have come straight from London.”

“But bad news travels fast”, she said. “Bristol is up in arms; the reform bill got voted out by the Lords. I would wager that other cities are in uproar too; the people here attacked old Lord Bathampton's place less than a mile away, which is why we have the guards.”

Dean stared curiously as his mate passed their hostess a letter, which she read. Her eyes twinkled at them both.

“Oddly enough, I have wondered at that too”, she said. “It should be easy enough to find out, with some money. Every servant has their price.”

“And every master”, Castiel agreed.

+~+~+

Dean was burning with curiosity to know what Castiel was planning, but he knew better than to press him on the subject. Although as their carriage passed through Stoke St. Medard he did growl in the direction of a certain house, something his omega 'missed'. Besides, the alpha was more concerned about getting home and confronting his son about his actions.

“Because when you were growing up, _you_ never did anything underhand”, Castiel said dryly, again showing that irritating mind-reading ability of his.

“I most certainly did not!” Dean said firmly. Castiel smiled.

“Remember, I talked with your mother!”

Damnation! Dean huffed in annoyance.

In the end, the alpha had to promise to wait before challenging his eldest son. Pie may have been involved, and certain other 'persuasions' that left someone unsure as to which way was up, never mind who was doing or not doing what to whom. Autumn continued on its way, and the country settled down as everyone waited to see what would happen next.

+~+~+

“Grey has put a third reform bill before the Commons”, Castiel told Dean as he read the newspaper one morning, shortly before Christmas. “Much the same as before, except he is keeping the number of members of parliament the same.”

“Surely the Lords will just veto it again?” Dean asked.

“Grey is betting that this bill will pass with a much larger majority”, Castiel said. “That, coupled with the fierce reaction last time, will make some Lords think twice before blocking it. And Alastair is due here in ten minutes.”

Dean blinked at his mate in shock.

_“What?”_

+~+~+

Castiel's only regret was that he felt he had to refuse a request from his eldest son to be present at the meeting, if only because he was not sure how he would react. His beta guest sat down and stared at him and Dean, who was forbidden from growling or snarling at him whatever happened. Castiel could smell the alpha's unhappiness at that. Poor Jesse looked terrified with his uncle's hand on his shoulder.

“What do you want?” Alastair asked rudely.

“Certain information has come into my possession”, Castiel said calmly. “Information that throws a rather interesting light on events surrounding your brother's death, and your becoming the ward of Jesse here.”

“Cedric was always a fool for sailing”, Alastair scoffed, his hand on his nephew's shoulder. “Took his life in the end.”

Castiel smiled.

“I was referring”, he said, “to your other brother, Walter. Jesse's father.”

 _“What?”_ Dean and Alastair both echoed. Castiel smiled.

“It was a painting at a friend's house that suggested the truth to me”, he said. “Did you know, for example, that it is impossible for a married couple, neither of whom have green eyes, to have a green-eyed child? Jesse has all the family features, yes – but his eyes are green, yet your brother Cedric had brown eyes and his wife blue ones. They could not have been Jesse's parents. But Walter had green eyes. _He_ was Jesse's father.”

“You lie!” the beta spat out.

“Then there is the problem of the dates”, Castiel said. “Nine months before Jesse was born, Cedric was away from his wife and out of the country on a year-long trip to the Continent. Unless he was born after just six months, Jesse could not be his son. And of course, since he was the son of your _elder_ brother, that means that he is the rightful inheritor of the estate. Not you.”

That was the precise moment when Castiel discovered that even his orders were disobeyed from time to time. Alastair grabbed his nephew by the arm – and a snarling blond figure flew out from behind the screen and straight at him. Alastair yelped in horror; Scaden might only be twenty-one but a grown alpha could worse a beta almost any time. 

“Son!” Castiel called out after what was probably rather too long a time. “Let him go.”

Scaden snarled his displeasure, but backed off a little way, firmly holding Jesse as he did. Alastair fled the room at a fair speed.

“Well”, Castiel sighed, “hullo, Jesse. Welcome to the family.”

+~+~+

Although he was only an omega to his husband's alpha, Castiel did not let his husband throw his weight about in or out of their marriage. However, today he had seen Dean off to London allowing him to do just that. Because the capital had been hit by an outbreak of cholera, and despite his wife's entreaties Dean's half-brother Adam was refusing to leave. Besides, it would do Dean good to be the alpha for once. 

Castiel would put him back in his place when he came home. Very firmly.

Although Dean had been against the idea, Castiel had suggested offering Alastair a deal to leave the estate with the minimum of fuss. The omega had read too many stories of great estates which had been swallowed up in the legal fees surrounding rival would-be owners, and he did not wish his prospective son-in-law's Stoke Park to suffer the same fate. Dean had been totally against such a suggestion, but his omega had 'persuaded' him. Which coincidentally explained the extra cushion that Dean had taken with him today.

It had been a good day for winter, and Castiel had just been visited by his daughter Mariel and son-in-law Ralston, who were pleased to inform him that he was about to become a.... something starting with the seventh letter of the alphabet. The omega was only sorry that they had missed Dean by a few hours, but his husband would be home soon enough.

His elder omega son entered the room.

“Hullo, Cassiel”, Castiel smiled.

“Hullo, father”, Cassiel said. “Goliath and I have just got back from town.”

“How are the local people taking to him?” Castiel asked. Country folk were, he knew, a lot more accepting than city newspapers made out, but there were usually one or two bigots who provided more than enough fuel for all those 'typical' stories. 

“Nothing anyone has said”, his son reässured him, “although I suspect that is partly because they know any such comments would swiftly get back to you, papa.”

“You make me sound like some sort of tyrant”, Castiel smiled. His smile as he sniffed the air. “Well, that may be the last of your problems.”

“What do you mean, papa?”

“Unless I am very much mistaken”, Castiel said, “you are coming into heat. A little unusual three months short of your eighteenth birthday, but not perhaps so....”

The door flew open and Goliath charged in, looking wildly around him. His gaze fastened on Cassiel and he let out a possessive growl.

“If I were you, son”, Castiel said calmly, “I would exit via the living-room and use the back staircase. Your mate's size will hinder his pursuit there – and will make for an interesting time when you _do_ get caught!”

His son was caught between mortification at his words and a desperate desire to flee. The latter clearly won out, because he sprinted for the door and was gone, hotly pursued by his mate. Castiel smiled.

+~+~+

Dean had returned from his London trip and been welcomed home, pleased to hear of the forthcoming birth of their first member of the next generation. And when Castiel asked him if he was fearful that this meant he was getting old, the alpha had demonstrated very forcibly that he still definitely had it in him. Even if he had to lie down for several hours afterwards. 

“Grey has sent the reform bill up to the Lords”, he told Castiel once the alpha could manage speech again. “By a larger majority this time, but the general expectation in the capital is that they will still throw it out.”

“More fool them”, Castiel said, patting his alpha's hair and eliciting something that an uncharitable person might have described as a satisfied purr. “Sooner or later there will be a major confrontation between the two chambers as to who has the final word over such things, and this may well precipitate that.”

“Is Cassiel any better?” Dean asked.

“No. Still furious.”

Dean nodded understandingly. Despite his elder omega son being in heat, Goliath had somehow controlled himself and had refused to mate with him until the boy reached the age of eighteen, despite the young omega's tears, entreaties and threats of bodily violence. It had to be hard, Dean thought, to be deprived of such things.

He really hoped that the smile on his own mate's face was purely coincidental. But he strongly suspected that it was not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In fact the final confrontation between the Lower and Upper Houses of the British parliament did not happen until 1910, when after a bitter fight over a new tax on large houses, the Upper House agreed only to block bills three times at most and not to vote down financial bills (Parliament Act, 1911).


	6. Days Of May (And June)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 6\. As before, the latest attempt at electoral reform fails in the House of Lords – but this time the reaction in the country is one of complete and utter fury, the tremors reaching even the peaceful Culm Valley. The Prime Minister resigns when the king refuses to back him, but the Crown is unable to stand against the anger of the common people, and within the week William IV backs down. As the final victory draws near, Barton Park prepares for two great unions, one of which lasts longer than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part of the title is a reference to the widespread riots that followed the rejection of the Great Reform Bill in the Lords, when the United Kingdom seemed perilously close to revolution.

“I absolutely forbid it!”

Castiel gave his alpha a Look. Dean did not tremble, but it was close. The alpha was sure that he saw one of the footmen cross himself.

 _“You do?”_ the omega asked dryly.

“Uh...... yes. Absolutely.”

Castiel continued to give him a Look.

“Absolutely, unless I am there as back-up”, Dean clarified. 

His mate smiled beatifically. Dean did not sigh with relief, but made a mental note to do so when he went for the walk that he was suddenly about to take.

“I am glad that we understand each other”, Castiel said, smiling dangerously. “I feel quite tired, really. Join me upstairs.... _Alpha_.”

Dean gulped. Lord have mercy, The Voice!

+~+~+

The cause of their contention was the news that had reached the valley the day before, and the local reaction to it. As expected, the Lords had thrown out the third reform bill. Now, also as expected, many of them had personally felt the sharp edge of the public reaction, those with homes in the capital getting the message particularly keenly. 

The local member of parliament, Mr. Leamington, was to address a gathering of local people in town, and despite his support for the bill, that gathering was still expected to be a hostile one. Dean had been furious when his mate had insisted on speaking there too, but had eventually giv.... changed his mind. And although Castiel did not particularly like speaking at public functions, he owed it to his workers to keep peace in the valley as much as he could

+~+~+

Two days later, and Dean was bitterly regretting saying 'yes' to his omega. Not that 'no' had been an option, but there were several local ruffians in the crowd, including that ghastly Mr. Graham Brown, who owned several shops in the town and was a regular nuisance to just about anyone who crossed his path.

The alpha shifted uneasily on his cushion. He was definitely not going to forbid his omega anything in future, or at least not until he had laid in supplies of his healing unguent! And someone's smirk was really annoying!

“As Mr. Leamington has rightly said”, Castiel said, “the attitude taken by the Lords is disappointing. But I believe that they will have to change their minds.”

“Why?” a local woman asked dubiously. “They're all for money.”

“Not all landowners are the same”, Castiel said in a gentle reproof. “If the king thinks that Wellington can command a parliament in which his opponent has a clear majority, then much as I respect the institution of monarchy, I will have to say that William the Fourth is living down to his nickname of Pineapple Head!”

There were several laughs from the crowd.

“I have done my best for you all in the past”, Castiel said. “I would not expect the duke to last more than a few days, a week at most. Grey will return, and on his terms.”

“Yeah, why would we trust an omega?” Mr. Brown called out from the back. “What the hell do _you_ know about politics.”

There was an angry growl, and suddenly Brown rose about a foot into the air, due primarily to a very angry Goliath (who suddenly had a whole area to himself) holding him by his lanky shoulders. The alpha breathed hard into the lanky beta's face, eliciting a terrified whine. Castiel suppressed a grin; he knew that the 'barely-controlled savage' was just an act, and that his future son-in-law liked nothing better than to curl up with his omega mate in a library chair with the sort of book that would be way over the heads of even some professors. But the people here didn't need to know that.

It was of course the distraction that made Castiel slow to react. Nothing else.

“Goliath”, he said gently. “Please let him go.”

The huge black man promptly dropped the snivelling beta into a heap, the latter crawling away and disappearing with an impressive speed. Castiel turned back to a suddenly rather more amenable crowd.

“It may be, if things do not turn out as I expect, that we will need to arrange a march on either Exeter or London”, he said. “But I hope for the best. Mrs. Harvelle is opening the tavern early today, and there is a pint of beer for all. Only one; I am sure you know both her and me well enough not to 'mistakenly' ask for more, otherwise she will be reaching for the firearm which I do not know that she keeps behind the bar.”

There were murmurs of agreement and the crowd moved off towards the tavern. Castiel grinned.

“Very well handled”, Dean said. “Let us hope that Grey can do the same to the King of England!”

+~+~+

With impeccable timing, the news reached the valley on day before Scaden and Jesse were to marry. Castiel sighed in relief.

“It is done”, he told his husband. “Grey would only return if the king agreed to hold to his original promise, and create enough new Lords to force the bill through the Upper House. Either they will back down or be forced to back down. We have won.”

“Time for a quiet celebration?” Dean asked. Castiel smiled.

“I would prefer a noisy one!”

+~+~+

The marriage of Scaden Ferrers to Jesse Campbell passed off uneventfully, apart from the father of the groom having something in his eye that made it keep watering for much of the day. The newlyweds departed for Stoke House, now definitely all Jesse's after his uncle had accepted a pay-off and, to the eternal gratitude of just about everyone, departed England for shores unknown. Peace and quiet reigned once more at Barton Park.

At least until the following day, which happened to be Cassiel's birthday. That had been the other minor event at the wedding; the young omega's body had decided his eighteenth birthday was the perfect time to come into heat again, and Goliath had growled warningly at anyone (except his omega soon to be father-in-law, who did not like it) when they came too close. And today the two were shut away in their own room, a long way from just about everyone, except the poor servants who had to leave food and water outside the door before fleeing. 

Dean was a little concerned when, a week later, the couple were still locked away, but the day after they both emerged, Goliath easily carrying his exhausted mate with all the tenderness and love that, Dean hoped, he himself showed to his own beloved.

+~+~+

“I shall buy in extra grain this year”, Castiel said.

Dean looked at him in surprise.

“Why?” he asked. “Do we not have enough? I thought that the forecasts for this year were quite good.”

“I have decided to hand out an extra truck token to everyone on the estate in celebration”, Castiel said, waving the paper at his husband. “Grey has officially won. The king has granted the Royal Assent, and the next parliament will not only be chosen on fairer rules, but I shall be allowed to vote for a member.”

“That is my omega”, Dean smiled. “Always thinking of others.”

“And you may have an extra slice of pie when you next go to town”, Castiel said generously.

“Only one?” Dean asked, a little put out. His mate looked at him knowingly.

“The extra one you got from Jo when you told her we were celebrating a family birthday?” he reminded him. “ _And_ our anniversary. _And_ the new houses we were building? _And_.....”

Dean sighed in a put-upon manner. Honestly, did his omega know every single move he made?

Castiel looked sharply at his mate and nodded. Dean gulped.

ΩΑΩΑΩΑΩΑΩΑΩΑΩ

And we are done – for now. But the (mis-)adventures of nineteenth century Cas and Dean continue in the next exciting installment of _The Dashwood Inheritance: Affairs And Adieus_ , set some five years into a future where family doesn't end in blood, but does end in some grey hairs..... 


End file.
